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if you chose to think
the unthinkable then you become
an intellectual an elite a superior
but at the cost of your clarity and sanity?
is the risk worth taking at all?
the lesser you think the lesser you are
the further you understand
the further you are from understanding
if a child must grow to one day enter
this labyrinth of eternal paradox
why must we grow to be matured ?
Why cant I remove the seed of thought that
Ignorance to the reason of why we prevail and peril
will be the true logical way of happiness.
I, in time still will never be able
to explain why azure skies be melancholy
is it our eyes that grow weary
or is it the color that leaves us
the sunsets look lesser nostalgic
more scheduled to a slot
gone where the days I could sit and think
chasing a flicker a flare a silhouette
or smile for a second and sleep for a minute
when ignorance of time was an option
and not a dream or a vague memory.
and the people I loved where underrated.
InkHarted Jun 1
within the grit of the gentle white
buried within the ***** of the roots
lay life between its silent slumber
while the outward burns to frost-ly breath
all the buds lay in cozy sleep
some think that Tis time to outshine
while the rabbits lay burdened to sleep
and bud and bloom midwinter too soon
their jealousy their end their doom.
as time makes brittle corpses of the children of sin
when the sun melts through the dense white reality
The well-rested princes and princess do rise
sometimes taking time and being patient gives rise to the opportunity.
do not try to outshine by being the first. be an equal and share the glory.
InkHarted May 17
a man wonders why
like a cage a single meaning is trapped
to a symbol of many faces
like moonshine being time for a romance
for it is also when the predators hunt,
a man wonders why like a fox the world is written
and like a rabbit we fall for its snares
people ignore to see our symbol of peace
murdering a wee lil worm,
how is it a prison is meant to keep things locked inside
when its actually keeping people out of our reach
how religion breaks war
and love fosters hate
why are we blinded like bats
and why are we deafer than snakes.
by showing forth even the poets blindness to his own usage of symbolism as he uses similes and metaphors to show there are no such things proves the theme of the poem as a paradox and self-contradictory piece
InkHarted May 15
I ran towards the door
not so they could let me inside
I pushed through the crowd
not so i could buy
I thew a coin to the wishing-well
not because it was a transaction
I said nice things to my reflection
not for him to  reply
I ran towards the door
not so they could let me inside
I wanted to feel the option
to be kissed by lips
not the curb of the pavement
I hoped I knelt I prayed
I never asked for a reality
just the right to dream
for a reason to live isn't needed
when i can make a million reasons not to die
InkHarted May 15
figures, flames and dancing silhouettes
shades and flashes and a zing
warmth, chills and lost in azure cloud
falling to a limitless pit
a face a mirror a pathway
a door a lamp a distance
a shadow a fear a climb a cliff
a death a memory a gateway.
InkHarted May 15
he thuds the loosely held floorboards
and smashes through the heavy pub door
he orders for a bottle instead of a glass
his coat drenched in filthy rain
his breathe smells like the rim of his bottle
and his shoes protruded a toe
wounds of glass from his last endeavors  
and needle marks not from the hospital
his crooked hands and messy hair puts anyone at a distance
once he was a gentlemen a father and a husband
once he had love and loved so many
once he had no need for needles
the bottle in his hand had only lukewarm milk
the bar tender was a stranger he'd never met
and his foot was only weary of legos misplaced
his shoes was stitched with a patch of a bunny
this man who was thrown
this man who was now a widower
and the smiles of her daughters trapped in his wallet
torn to shreds skinned to core
A blotted out smile on a blotted out photo
he now finds comfort in forgetfulness
to not remember the "how it used to be"
he has forgotten their graves and with it his promises
as their flowers wilt and perish
for a life a love an existence
is only meaningful if it has a memory
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